Vermont was like...

this time two years ago i was in New Hampshire, en route to Vermont, still oblivious to the perils of border crossing bus stops. seeing as how i've already recycled these concerns once, i've decided to try something a little different this year and offer up a collage in celebration of the Green Mountain State. and so...

Vermont was like:

fornicating Buddhas outside Woodstock

and the drift of hot air balloons over the Quichee Gorge

gorging on pumpkin seeds in White River Junction.

picking up hitchhikers holding park service hats

and angry bus station declarations

by employees of Vermont Transit

downtown cafes with sad women

legs white from the long winter



the slow spring and cut glass eyes,

blue as the ones I left behind.

the sunset over Lake Champlain

after a long day of writing and meditation

trips to the market seeking hot chocolate

and finding topsoil, six bags for ten dollars.



sleeping windows open with 90 year old
nightgowns under my pillow

and dreams so crisp as Plattsburgh breezes across the water

learning about karma and the trembling Fear

the long ride back to Boston

still shaking, trying to breathe,
sitting next to a middle age woman

from Montreal with lust in my heart.